


Tell Me What Love Is

by Papillonae



Series: HWD Event: Her Kind (2018) [6]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, Gen, Gender Identity, Lesbian Character, Questioning, Secrets, Thinking About Girls, like vs love, secret crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 20:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14316117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillonae/pseuds/Papillonae
Summary: Character study. Liechtenstein is conflicted about her feelings, and spends most of the Summit meeting thinking about ladies...Written for the Hetalia Writers Discord Female Characters Event, Day 6: Secrets.





	Tell Me What Love Is

_“You who know what love is,_  
_Ladies, see if I have it in my heart._  
_I’ll tell you what I’m feeling,_  
_It’s new to me, and I understand nothing._  
_I have a feeling, full of desire,_  
_Which is, by turns, delightful and miserable._  
_I freeze and then feel my soul go up in flames,_  
_Then in a moment I turn to ice._  
_I’m searching for affection outside of myself,_  
_I don’t know how to hold it, nor even what it is!”_  

\-- Lorenzo da Ponte, “Voi che sapete” from W.A. Mozart’s _Le Nozze di Figaro_ (Translation by Naomi Gurt Lind) 

* * *

 

“Liechtenstein? What happened to your _hair_?” 

Of course Switzerland would notice that first.

Liechtenstein fixed her gaze upon him as she entered the room, tucking a short lock of blonde hair behind her ear. The weightlessness of her hair above her shoulders still felt alien to her, and she couldn’t help but reach back and ruffle at the back with her fingertips.

“Good day, Switzerland,” she said with a polite curtsey, “So you noticed I cut it… I thought it would look fresher.”

He stared at her for a moment, tracing the way her hair hung low in the front, just barely above her collarbone. “It… _is_ a fresh look…” Then, as if he were coming back to his senses, he shook his head. “But that’s not the point!”

As he slowly approached her, she could see something in his eyes. Concern? “Liechtenstein… what’s with the tomboyish attitude all of a sudden?”

Her heart beat painfully in her chest.

_He knows, he knows he knows…!_

She took a steady breath and turned away shyly, looking idly over at the delicate window shades. The heat rose to her face as she stammered out her reply. “I just… wanted to be more like you,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper, “and… I think it’s cute… don’t you?”

Immediately, his expression changed. He thought it over before clearing his throat. “Well… I suppose there is nothing wrong with it…”

She smiled up at him and breathed a small sigh of relief.

 

It was only a little white lie.

After all, she really and truly did admire him. She would be crazy not to! After everything he had done for her, when she was ready to give up back then… how selfless he had been during those times when they barely had enough food to feed each other… for every hardship, he’d always face it without any complaint for her sake.

Who wouldn’t want to be an admirable person like that?

_And who’s to say only tomboys cut their hair anyway?_

She gathered her skirts a little as Switzerland placed a comforting, approving hand on her head.

_Did he know? Could he see it? Impossible!_

Liechtenstein had always loved feminine things: she loved wearing dresses, loved the way she looked in clothing that made her look like a proper lady. She was always happy to see the flowers blossoming all around the Swiss countryside, just as she was always filled with a sense of accomplishment and pride when she’d finished her intricate works of embroidery. Surely none of those things made her a tomboy!

But still, Liechtenstein knew, one doesn’t expect proper young ladies like her to favor… certain things… or, perhaps, _certain people_ …

She excused herself then, having received her brother’s blessing, and retreated to her room. She had laid out a matching uniform similar to her brother Switzerland’s on the duvet covers of her bed.

It was just admiration. She just wanted to be like her brother.

_Was that all she wanted…?_

* * *

 

Liechtenstein knew she was helplessly in… this rather complex emotion. It was something strong, but not strong enough to be certain. Her whole body trembled with nerves, and her mind ran wild with ideas that gave her stomach butterflies – ideas that felt somehow daring, somehow _wrong_. It was all still a very new and confusing experience to her. 

Dressed in her uniform, she stood in front of her vanity mirror and argued with herself about it:

_It’s just admiration, like what you have for Switzerland!_

And slowly, the argument deteriorated:

_You can still admire “certain people” in such a way!_

_And maybe, aside from “certain people,” you just haven’t found the right person!_

_Of course, Love is so strong a word, perhaps what you feel for “certain people” is an intense “Like”! The kind where you just want to be friends! That’s probably what “certain people” will want and expect from you, I’m sure—_

_And what if it_ is _Love? What would you do then, if you found yourself in Love with “certain people?” How would they know?_

_So you dress like this as an act of admiration… and also for their attention... would “certain people” get the wrong idea…?_

Eventually, she grew tired of her logic loop, and the frustratingly repetitive use of the phrase “certain people.” Liechtenstein turned away from the mirror, her hands ruffling through her short hair out of frustration as she paced the floor.

After hours of aimless muttering around her room, she returned to the mirror and confessed to herself:

 _Okay, Liechten. You like women. You are not a tomboy. You are a young lady, one who prefers praise and attention from other women. You want them to see you. You want them to_ know _that you prefer them._

Satisfied with the answer that she felt was her secret truth, she heaved a sigh and tied the ribbon Switzerland bought for her in her hair. It was a feminine touch, just enough to offset the androgyny of her uniform. _I am a girl_ , she reiterated, _a girl who wants to be noticed by other girls._

_“Love” is too strong a word for this feeling right now, but if it were to come your way… what then?_

* * *

 

When next she and Switzerland attended the Summit, her new haircut and appearance definitely attracted the attention of all the ladies in attendance. 

She was greeted first by Hungary, whom she had known since the Habsburgs.

Miss Hungary had always seemed so unattainable back then. Always by Austria’s side, they were a beautiful couple. She remembered those days when Austria sat beside her at the piano, teaching her to play Beethoven from her heart… how her fingers tripped over the black keys when she caught a glimpse of Hungary watching them from the hall… how she felt her chest swelling with _that feeling_ that she still could not describe when Hungary praised her playing, in spite of her mistakes…

And when Miss Hungary bent down to hug her, to gently bounce her hair in the palm of her hand, Liechtenstein could feel that same swelling…

And still, the greetings came:

Ukraine, who gave off this motherly vibe… Ukraine, who was always quick to act on emotion, yet still possessed a quiet strength no doubt cultivated through familial love… When Ukraine also bent down to give Liechtenstein a hug, she froze and felt herself aflame all at once – as she felt how soft, how firm, how _present_ her sizable chest was pressed against her own as they hugged…

She was left unable to speak when, at the same time, Belgium began to readjust her hair ribbon, complimenting her sense of style as she did. Belgium was yet unknown to Liechtenstein, but she seemed more like a “big sister” than anything. She was a gourmet chef, and it was something she knew Switzerland didn’t like about her, and yet… the perfume she wore was intoxicating… and her gentle smile left Liechtenstein absolutely dumbfounded.

Overloaded by the attention, she quickly scuttled back to her brother’s side as the meeting began. But how her thoughts kept racing!

Beside Ukraine sat the gorgeous Belarus – and while Hungary was unattainable in her approachable nature, Liechtenstein saw Belarus as haunting, ethereal. There was something sad and otherworldly about Belarus, yet also something dangerous and deep… she was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

When she glanced her way, Liechtenstein quickly averted her eyes. Her face felt flushed, as if she had been burned by that glance.

She watched Taiwan and Vietnam whispering to each other, and spared a thought for each of them: the fashionable and cute outfits Taiwan always seemed to wear at each summit and how they complimented her personality well… how Vietnam seemed to carry this quiet strength, yet always seemed so flustered around Taiwan – it reminded her so much of Switzerland and herself…

Her gaze then wandered toward the confident and stylish Monaco, smirking across the table as beside her sat Seychelles, gently combing through her pigtails with her fingers. Liechtenstein had observed the two of them before – had heard how Monaco chides her much like a little sister – and for a moment, Liechtenstein was incredibly envious of their relationship. Not to say she wasn’t content with being Switzerland’s little sister, of course! But how nice would it be to have a sister-figure? How nice to have someone so smart and pretty to turn to…

For the rest of the summit, her head spun as she thought more and more about the ladies – how they held themselves, how they spoke, how each of them greeted her earlier, and how maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it had continued past hugging… past touching her hair… past polite kisses in the air, or on the cheek... but closer, and closer still...

* * *

 

“Liechtenstein, are you alright?” 

She started from her daydream and turned to see Switzerland looking down at her. His gaze held a quiet intensity as he peeled off one of his gloves and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

“You feel fevered,” he informed her quietly,” and your face is flushed. You shouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard to come if you are feeling unwell.”

This only made her face burn harder. “I am fine,” she insisted nervously, turning her attention back to the doodles in her day planner.

Switzerland still seemed confused by her behavior. She could feel his stare still on her. Then she felt the weight of his hand at the top of her head. Liechtenstein couldn’t help but lean up into it as he gently patted her head.

“Liechtenstein. I am here for you if you ever need to talk to me.”

She shrank a little in her seat. “Thank you…”

With a troubled mind, Liechtenstein spent the rest of the meeting gazing longingly at the other ladies as they spoke together as a group on the other side of the meeting hall. Her secret desires were becoming too obvious now – a secret that she wasn’t even quite sure of herself: a “Liking?” A “Loving?” Which was it? And how could she know which one it was?

Liechtenstein knew how Switzerland was. She knew he was protective of his lands. His assets. His _little sister_. He never responded well to intruders, nor to theft.

How could she possibly tell her brother that certain people – that _women_ – had stolen her heart away?


End file.
